The Harrowing Sunday mass
by BaronessvonTrapp
Summary: This is a one shot from Georg's journal. It takes place during the honeymoon. It's a fluffy honeymoon piece.


**A/N: Here is another one shot. This is part of an old draft of Georg's journal. I had a whole journal that takes place during the movie. However, I wanted to rework it. I'm having trouble getting started from the beginning. I'm posting some of my old chapters as one shots to get feed back and make sure I'm on the right track. All my one shots will all eventually be integrated into a long journal. You may have seen these before. I posted one of them in a journal. I wasn't happy with them so I deleted them and am starting from scratch. Wish me luck! ㈳2 This is a fluffy honeymoon piece.**

October 2, 1938

We had quite a harrowing experience today going to mass this morning. I realize that going to mass doesn't sound too difficult. Trust me it was in fact most difficult.

A few days ago, Maria and I toured Notre Dame Cathedral. She was in awe as I knew she would be. I suggested we attend a real mass at the cathedral.

I almost felt like it would almost be sin for me not to take my former postulant wife to a mass at the most famous church is the world. The whole experience was so harrowing that Maria is now taking a little nap.

For starters we overslept. The ironic part is I NEVER EVER oversleep. Now, Maria oversleeps constantly which is another story for another entry.

Of course, we have not gotten much sleep for very obvious reasons. Like most men, I will always trade sleep for the intense passion.

Truth is told we should have scrapped it and prayed from our warm soft cozy bed. I didn't have the heart to tell Maria that I was considering skipping mass for sharing a intimate moment with her.

Instead we ran around like two crazed decapitated chickens. I also didn't have the heart to tell her that I'm not sure it was worth it. I don't think I will ever confess to that impure thought.

Eventually made our way to mass. We rushed off and made it will less than two minutes to spare. Maria is so funny. Her first comment was that for her two minutes or less was an improvement. Apparently, she was never ever on time for mass at the abbey. Why I am not surprised?

I guess if you want to get technical two minutes or less is still considered early. I melted despite myself when she actually felt proud of herself for being "on time" for the first time her in life. Her ever so proud smile was more than I could resist.

I was slightly comforted to discover that there were others who didn't plan ahead and get to mass early. To say that there are others is a mere understatement. It was absolutely packed to the rafters.

Maria cutely commented that even a sardine would have felt uncomfortable. This is one time when she was not exaggerating or using her vivid imagination. I, the literal one in this relationship can attest to the fact that it was beyond the sardine level.

We were packed in extremely close. I told her later that is a good thing we really love each other because we were forced into an unintentional embrace.

Another important issue is we rushed and did not eat breakfast. Maria has become quite a little elitist about her breakfast. Oh no, I'm not talking grabbing a piece of toast on the run. No, she has to sit and savor her café au lait and full breakfast. It's funny to me to see that such that such a simple women has become so fussy over breakfast.

Since her little body has become quite used to eating a nice breakfast every morning, her tummy decided to remind her during mass and quite loudly I might add. It's hard to believe that a soft and sweet woman could have such a vocal tummy.

What was even worse was her tummy piped up during all the most quiet and solemn parts of the mass. This is going to sound awful but I had the most irresistible urge to laugh.

She was just too cute. I could not resist. She kept rubbing her stomach as if that could stop it. She was blushing wildly and looking at the floor. This made me stiffen even move to prevent loud boisterous laughter. At one point my my lip and even my upper body were trembling to avoid breaking out in a real fit of laughter.

This was not like me. I'm always reserved in church and other solemn functions that require utmost decorum. However, this was just too much to handle. I found myself looking away from her and biting my lip to avoid boisterous laughter. She noticed my trembling attempts to stifle my laughter and kept giving me sad looks.

Unfortunately, this made it even funnier to me. I suddenly pictured my mother and the Reverend mother somewhere in Austria getting unexplained chills due to my abhorrent behavior in church. What kind of man laughs at his poor starving wife in church?

That was not the only problem. Some of the other people around us were for lack of a better word objectionable. How shall I put this? Well, as long as you didn't inhale you were fine.

I don't mind being packed in nice and close with my adorable little Baroness. However on the other side of me I was packed in with some rather objectionable people.

Well in order to put this in perspective, I told myself that if Jesus died on the cross, my poor starving wife and I could handle this. This was definitely better than being nailed to a cross.

Getting to communion ended up being quite a challenge. Who would have thought Going to communion would be a stressful event? Trust me it was a quite an event indeed.

In an utter panic, Maria grabbed a hold of my forearm and would not let go of my arm AT ANY COST. I'm telling you that sweet thing does not know her strength. In the process she slammed into several innocent worshipers along the way. She wasn't the least bit contrite.

I thought of the stories those people could tell their loved ones later.

"How was mass?"

"You won't believe this. All I wanted to do was go top communion. Well, this crazed women slammed into me."

" How abhorrent."

She is so funny. Her little imagination tends to run wild. She later told me she had visions me of losing her in church and subsequently going home without her. Only she would come up with that image.

I do believe that IF we became seperated I would make every attempt to locate her. I can't see myself just giving up and going back to Austria.

Her vivid imagination brought up a funny image in my mind of me actually returning home without her.

"Where is mother?"

"Oh mother? Well, I lost her in Paris and decided to return home without her. I wouldn't worry. She has street smarts! Hopefully she'll find her way back home eventualIy."

Finally the madness ended. We filed out of mass like little lab rats. My strong Baroness kept her tight grip on my arm until we were far away from the crowds.

You know she actually left a mark on my arm. This is something I will never admit to ANY of my friends back home. I would never hear the end of it.

I rolled up my sleeve and showed her my red discolored skin. "Well, you've got quite a grip there Baroness." I said with a laugh!

She simply smiled and said, "Sorry!" with a blush! That is when she told me about the visions of me leaving her in Paris.

I had to laugh at her next comment. What makes her comments amusing is she does not intend to be funny.

We finally extracted ourselves from the other worshippers. She mentioned she was starving. I kind of figured that based on her vocal tummy during mass.

So, the poor starving thing begged me to "let her eat". The way she said it made me sound like a tyrant who didn't like to "feed her" I couldn't help but dissolve into hysterical laughter. She still didn't get it.

"What?" she asked with the sweetest smile ever.

"Well, when you put it like that you make me sound like a mean abusive husband who refuses to feed you regularly."

This of course made her laugh. "Oh well no I didn't mean… I mean I… I'm just so… Well a… hungry."

She is just so cute I had to tease her even more. I looked at her with a very straight face and said thoughtfully, "Well, I'm trying to decide if you have been a good little wife today? That will determine if I can feed you." I made a serious face as if I was pondering the thought.

"Wait a minute! I forgot that you left a red mark on my flesh in church. I'm sorry Maria but I cannot feed you after such and infraction." She looked at me with utter amazement trying not to give me the satisfaction of a smile.

"I'll tell you what my dear if you can be a good little wife until tomorrow, I will feed you then. If you really behave yourself I might even throw in a treat." She simply laughed and rolled her eyes.

Finally I decided to stop being mean and feed my poor starving wife. Over our long overdue meal, Maria was lamenting over being considered a tourist. I had to laugh because she brings it on herself.

She feels like she screams tourist. I reminded her that when we first arrived in Paris, she wore her favorite authentic hat that she bought in SALZBURG. It's an adorable hat and it looks adorable on her. However, it's clearly an Austrian hat. She also wore the edelweiss earrings and a necklace she made out of the edelweiss I picked for her shortly after our engagement.

I must say all those accessories scream out AUSTRIA. She might as well wear a sign that says Je suis Baroness Maria von Trapp et je suis de Autriche.

She had a firm comeback but it was short lived. "Well yes of course I understand that. However, I stopped wearing the hat and jewelry as soon as I realized it made me look like a tourist.

She pointed to the scarf she was wearing. It was a very pretty French scarf I recently bought her.

"See darling, I'm wearing the French scarf you bought me. I was sure it would make me look French instead of an Austrian Baroness. Local people STILL look at me and think 'tourist.' " she said sadly.

"Ok, Maria let me clear this up for you once and for all. That scarf does not make you look French. It makes you look like an Austrian women who is wearing a scarf that her devoted husband bought for her!" She of course blushed and let out the cutest sigh of defeat.

I felt compelled to add, "Cheer up Baroness, there are worse names to be called then 'tourist' believe me. I remember during my naval days we had some very choice names for the rather shall we say unsavory women we came into contact with from time to time."

She looked at with sweet innocent curiosity. Well, I wasn't about to actually repeat such names.

"OH NO! A gentleman like me could never ever repeat such vulgar names in front of an angel like you."

"**GEORG**!" she replied in horror.

Her next issue was she confessed to being worried about getting fat from all the sweets she has been eating! Trust me; I now know firsthand she has absolutely nothing to worry about figure wise.I do think it is cute that she is worried about it.

I decided to offer her some suggestions on how she could indulge in sweets and still keep her pretty feminine figure.

"Oh you needn't worry Baroness. I can think of many fun and very creative ways to keep you in excellent shape despite indulging in sweets!" I said followed by a devilish grin. She let out the cutest little devilish little giggle followed by a light colored blush on her face.

I should probably go and wake her up now. I don't want her having insomnia later. When she does she wiggles all over the bed and ends up waking me. Perhaps after eating such a sweet lunch she needs a little exercise. I did promise to keep her in shape, did I not?


End file.
